


It's Just Shotgunning

by whatabadchoice



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Best Friends, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, College, Drugs, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, How Do I Tag, M/M, Making Out, Nerd Castiel, Nerd Dean, Recreational Drug Use, but like its mild calm down, its just pot its basically legal, nobody comes in this story im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 18:30:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5259167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatabadchoice/pseuds/whatabadchoice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas have been friends all through college. Dean only manages to convince him to go to a party in their last year, and Cas finds out what shotgunning is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Just Shotgunning

**Author's Note:**

> listen ok I wrote this at work cos it was so boring I thought I might die

They had met in freshman year, paired together by chance after Dean’s original roommate had somehow let the bathroom flood over. The new assignment had come in the middle of midterms so at first Dean had thought he had been given his own dorm. It wasn’t until four o’clock in the morning on a Tuesday of the second week he’d moved in that Dean heard someone barge into his room. Alarmed, Dean had groggily gripped for the baseball bat he kept near his bed, just in case. Dorms were notorious for theft and partying, and Dean, a twenty four year old freshman, was not attending college to deal with either. He had gone through the stealing phase as a kid, growing up from nothing, often stealing when him and his brother Sammy hadn’t seen their father in a few days. He had had his partying time when Sam had gone off to college and Dean had felt like he had lost his one purpose: keep Sammy safe. Thus, Dean kept a bat beside his bed. Nothing as stupid as a drunk or klepto college kid was going deter Dean from his solid four hours at night. It was the best he could do as a full time mechanic slash full time mechanical engineering student. Though his work study program offered him financial support to live in dorms and cover tuition, it was a grueling schedule that left him underslept and overstressed. 

So when Dean clicked the bedside lamp on and glared sleepily up at his intruder, he was surprised at what he found. 

A dark haired, bespectacled guy of below average height and stocky build was rubbing his eyes at the brightness. He was wearing a _sweater vest_ of all things and khakis that were severely wrinkled. Instead of asking questions, however, the man just shrugged, yawned, and climbed right into the single bed where Dean slept.

Dean remembered being horrified at first. Who was this dude? What was he supposed to do? The messy-haired stranger had just burrowed further into the covers, ignoring his squawk of indignation and successfully manhandling Dean so that they were back to chest. Reaching out blindly, head firmly planted in Dean’s neck, the man Dean would later understand to be his roommate, shut off the light. Speechless, Dean had eventually drifted to sleep, but not before feeling the man’s hand sneak around his waist. Dean would argue, to this day, that he had simply been too tired to protest.

The morning after had been almost unbearably awkward. After he had apologized about fourteen times, the guy had introduced himself as “Castiel”, claiming that he had no recollection of the night before as he had been “studying quite late into the evening” for his “midterm evaluations”. He assured Dean that his intentions had been “purely platonic” and hoped he could “overlook his transgressions in order to pursue a friendship” with him. Once Dean had substantially made fun of the way he spoke, they had bonded over their hatred for loud noises and distractions. Soon after, Dean was introducing Castiel, or _Cas_ as he had quickly taken to calling him, to processed foods and videogames. Castiel, for his part, taught Dean the efficiency of power napping and positive reinforcement for optimal studying conditions. Ever since, the pair had been inseparable. Rarely was the name Dean uttered without the obligatory _and Cas_ tagged onto the end when they were spoken of in their circle of friends. 

And now, in their senior year, Dean had finally convinced Castiel to come to a frat party.

“C’mon, Cas,” he had wheedled shamelessly as Cas studied on the floor of their shared room. The dorms consisted of bland single beds on each side of a tiny bland room. Kitchens and bathrooms were shared spaces, so Dean and Cas generally avoided them. Instead, Castiel often took to spreading his medical books out on the floor at the foot of Dean’s bed while Dean sat on the edge, a stray leg occasionally brushing absently up against Cas’ own thigh. It had become so natural that Cas barely spent any time in library anymore, and Dean found he had trouble concentrating without Cas tossing him a jujube when he got answers right.

“You’ve been here for what? Three years now? And you haven’t gone to a single party!” Dean had said, knowing full well that his track record wasn’t much better. Still, he reasoned, he had at least attended one or two of the end of semester blowouts. Though more often than not, he had ended up in a corner with his phone, reading Cas’ blow by blow text account of Star Wars Episode IV or whatever, until he finally ditched the party and returned back to his room with snacks. 

“Dean. Whenever you attend those parties, you complain endlessly by text message until you return early so we can watch a film together. The whole endeavour seems… pointless,” Cas had said without lifting his gaze. Dean never did quite tease the funny way he talked out of him.

It had taken three whole minutes of arguing, then another full minute of pouting, for Dean to convince Castiel that since it was the _last_ end of semester party of their _last_ year together, they should really try it. At least _once_. Castiel had finally relented, and they had left four hours later.

They had been standing around for a good ten minutes, watching as people drank light beer and acted a lot more drunk than they probably were. Dean had started to feel out of place, wishing for the comfort of their shared room and the brush of Cas’ hair against Dean’s wandering shin.

That’s when Benny, a broad football scholarship kid with bronze skin, had tapped them -- or rather shoved them -- from behind.

“Guys!” he yelled, though they stood only a few feet away. Dean was really starting to regret his decision to drag Cas to this travesty when Benny held up twin glass shooters. “I come bearing gifts, my brothers!” Dean handed a shot to Cas, who eyed it warily. 

“C’mon, Cas! Live a little!” Dean said, and when that earned him a glare, he tried another tactic. “I bet you can’t keep up anyway.” 

That got a pretty good reaction. Despite the thinly veiled attempt at taunting him, Castiel immediately rose to the challenge, downing one shot and dragging Dean by the arm to the drinks station. 

Many more shots later, Dean found himself standing on a table, a microphone in one hand, his shirt in the other. His words slurred but he belted them out anyway as the crowd cheered. He was singing a cheesy Bon Jovi song, but he knew the words by heart so he never glanced at the monitor. Instead, his eyes were drawn to a certain blue eyed, dark haired kid who sat on a couch not too far away. Cas was nursing a red cup, eyes wide and pupils dilated. His eyes never left Dean, whose hips were swaying, eyes staring right back at him with equal intensity.

_Cause I’ve lived life to the fullest_  
Let the boy die like a man  
Staring down the bullet  
Let me make my final stand 

Dean broke the eye contact to throw back his head for the final chorus.

Then he was climbing down from the table, stumbling a little into a girl he didn’t know. He ignored the protests though because Castiel had risen from his seat, a little unsteady too, and was walking towards him also. They met roughly in the middle, and stared at each other.

Castiel’s blue eyes burned with a hunger Dean had never seen there, and he imagined his gaze wasn’t any less loaded. He cursed himself at his hesitance. But what was he supposed to do? Once again, Castiel had gotten him into a position he wasn’t sure he could handle, yet instead of doing anything about it, Dean was paralyzed by fear and indecision. He shouldn’t want to jump his best friend’s bones, right? This was number one on the list of Things Dean Definitely **Should Not** Do.

It wasn’t like this was the first time he’d thought about Castiel’s in _that_ way. He’d let his gaze wander once or twice when Castiel would change in their room. It was too distracting not to, when beneath his dorky clothes, Dean knew Cas had a built chest on top of a long lean torso. And his _goddamn_ freckle just above his right nipple. Suddenly Dean couldn’t think of a single reason why he _hadn’t_ jumped his best friend’s bones. 

But while Dean had been having this inner revelation, Castiel had grown impatient. Suddenly Dean found himself being dragged through a hall where Castiel had spotted something he wanted to see.

“Dean,” he said urgently, palm warm against his own, still urgently leading Dean into a quieter room of the fraternity house. “Dean, look!” Castiel said, pointing openly at a circle of people passing around a joint. Dean eyed Castiel skeptically until he noticed what activity exactly the group was participating. _Oh_ , Dean thought dumbly. _That’s what had his panties in a twist._

In front of them, a guy took a large hit from the joint being passed around. Passing it to his left, he turned to another guy on his right, placing a hand on each side of the other man’s face. Castiel’s eyes were comically wide as he watched the two men lean in and swap smoke. Castiel turned back to Dean, still holding his hand.

“Can we try that?” he said, gaze suddenly sharper than it had been earlier, his hold on Dean’s hand tightening almost painfully. Dean chuckled.

“You wanna try shotgunning weed?” Dean asked doubtfully, but Castiel was already dragging him towards the group. Dean eyed the circle of people cautiously, picturing each of them of them leaning towards Cas, eyeing his pink lips, licking their own as they drew close to share breath with his best friend. An ugly feeling reared in his gut and suddenly he was pushing past Cas, cut into the circle.

“Heya guys,” he said, as casually as he could muster. “Got any room for a first timer over here?” he asked, and a couple of them smiled lazily. “I’m just gonna take a puff, alright friends?” He plucked the joint out of a bald headed guy sitting next to him and brought it up to Cas.

“Ok, Cas. Here’s your chance. Need a crash course?” Dean said, voice surprisingly steady. Castiel rolled his eyes.

“Of course not, Dean. I have kissed a man before. It’s similar,” Castiel said, peeking up at Dean. “Is it not?” he added quietly. Dean’s eyes widened at the admission. When had Cas found the time to be kissing guys? And more importantly who had he been kissing?

“Not really Cas. We’re just shotgunning,” he said, and mentally kicked himself when Cas’ face fell. “But you’re right, the first time’s easier if our mouths touch.” Dean amended, attempting to sound as clinical as possible even though his hands were shaking so hard he worried he might drop the joint entirely. He stepped closer to Cas, who regarded him with large, luminescent eyes. The warm tones of the party contrasted starkly with Cas’ pale skin. Dean almost forgot he was giving a lesson.

“Ok. So I blow, you suck. Got it?” Dean said, hating every second of this innuendo-filled nonsense. Castiel at least smirked at the phrasing, lessening the tension a little.

Dean took a puff of the sweet smelling smoke. Dropping down, he passed the joint on the the circle and steered Cas towards a quieter corner of the room all the while still holding his breath. Castiel stumbled to follow him until they were pressed against the far wall, stuck between a window and an old sprawling bookcase. Dean pointed at his mouth and nodded in askance. Castiel nodded, brow furrowed in concentration.

Leaning in, Dean closed his eyes.

Their lips met and Dean tried to concentrate on blowing the smoke into Castiel’s mouth as gently as possible. He told himself he was being considerate, it was Cas’ first time after all, but even when his breath ended and Castiel had sucked up all the air into his lungs, Dean’s lips lingered. Finally, lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, Dean broke the contact, eyes opening to the sight of Castiel coughing roughly. Dean chuckled.

“So did you like it?” he asked, and the sound of his voice felt too loud. Castiel tilted his head to the side, considering. His glasses had fallen down his nose and were giving him an air of a disgruntled professor. Dean giggled.

“I’m not sure,” Castiel said. He looked up at Dean, licking his lips. Dean tried to track the movement of his tongue, but his eyes were too slow. Castiel pushed his black frames up his nose. The strange hunger in Castiel’s eyes had returned once he looked up, and Dean blushed, low and hot along his neckline at the sight.

“Can we try it again?” Castiel said, snapping Dean out of his thoughts. He frowned at Castiel.

“Uh, sure, man. Did you wanna go back to…” he started, but Castiel had already taken a step closer.

“No, we don’t need them this time I don’t think,” Castiel said, and stepped even closer so that Dean could feel his little puff of warm breath on his lips. Castiel maintained eye contact as he opened his mouth, a flash of pink darting out, and traced Dean’s upper lip with his tongue. Dean was momentarily incapacitated by how _fucking hot_ that little trick was. Cas hummed, apparently pleased with the taste, and the next moment Castiel’s lips were crashing into Dean’s.

He barely had time to figure out that he had somehow opened his mouth too when the taste of just _Cas_ was running against Dean’s tongue as he struggled to keep up with filthy sounds coming from his best friend.

“Cas!” he gasped, when Cas pawed at Dean’s naked hip, Dean belatedly realizing he had never put his shirt back on. Castiel’s other hand traveled from the short hairs at the back of Dean’s head to his shoulder to his nipple where he pinched, hard. Dean definitively did _not_ whimper. 

“Cas, Cas, Cas…” Dean was babbling, trying to take control of the tornado of kisses and touches in his hands. Castiel was relentless, however, and soon covered Dean’s mouth with his again.

“I have been thinking about this for so long, Dean Winchester,” Castiel growled into his ear before running his tongue along the shell of it. His hot breath blocked out the noises of the party, Dean’s mind a steady stream of _yesfuckcasyes_. Dean was vaguely aware of the obscene noises he was making, but between the booze, and the drinks, and his goddamn best friend _finally_ putting that filthy mouth to good use… Dean found his ability to care was quite low.

“We should… We need to go,” Dean choked out and Castiel looked up at him, eyes wide again. Without breaking eye contact, Castiel moved the hand that had been gripping at Dean’s hip down to his crotch. Running his finger along the zipper of his jeans, Castiel suddenly palmed Dean’s half-hard cock through his pants and _squeezed_ , still watching Dean’s face. Dean closed his eyes.

“Oh _fuck_ , Cas. Fuck,” he whined incoherently, unable to stop his hips from bucking forward. Castiel’s face split into a cheshire grin, and he turned them so that Dean was pressed up against the bookcase. Moving his hands up to run along Dean’s ribs, up to rest on his smooth pectorals, Castiel leaned his hips in so that Dean could feel his own arousal slotted in next to his.

“Cas,” Dean pleaded, but whether it was for them to leave or finish or stop, he couldn’t tell. He drew his hands out from where they had tangled beneath Castiel’s button up to run them through Castiel’s already messy hair. _God_ the things he wanted to do to Castiel Novak. He tugged the strands in frustration. “Baby, please,” he whispered, and Castiel made a noise at the back of his throat halfway between a grunt and a moan. Dean tugged at his hair again, just to hear that beautiful sound one more time.

Dean was rutting up against Castiel’s hip shamelessly now, as Cas licked a stripe down Dean’s neck as if marking him. Just the thought of Castiel leaving a mark on his body for everyone to see left Dean dizzy with want. He rubbed himself harder against Castiel’s body, so much but not enough. 

Castiel detached his mouth from where he had been biting at Dean collarbone to look Dean in the eye. Mesmerizing blue filled Dean’s vision as he felt Castiel’s two first fingers come up to rub against his lips. Before Dean could say anything, he felt the press of his middle and forefinger against the seam of his mouth and suddenly Castiel was staring at him while Dean sucked on his fingers. Still rutting desperately against a panting Castiel, Dean stopped caring about appearances as he licked sloppily around the long digits in his mouth. He moaned loudly, forgetting where they were. 

Castiel’s eyes widened at the sound and his lips parted in awe. Though the effect was Dean’s arousal ratcheting up further, Castiel’s eyes suddenly darted around the room. Pure possessiveness flashed across Cas’ features and suddenly he was stepping back. 

Castiel turned around without a word and began to walk away. Dean stared after his friend, whose hips were swaying provocatively as he began to weave his way through the crowd. Just as Dean was about to say something, call out maybe to stop him, Cas looked back at Dean.

The same hunger burned bright in his eyes, but this time so did a playful smile.

“So,” Cas called back, eyebrow raised. “You in?”

Dean tried not to trip when he jogged to catch up.


End file.
